A transfer student came to Haicheng No. 1 High School. He was fair-skinned, beautiful, and had an air of immortality, but he never looked at others seriously. He caused quite a stir when he first came to school.
Classmate Ji Huaian heard this and curled his lips, that's it?
He turned around and wrote to his pen pal: "The new transfer student really loves to pretend."
Lu Xi had just arrived and was not interested in anything new around her. She had heard several times that her classmate Ji Huai'an was a cold-blooded school girl who walked through thousands of flowers without even touching her body.
Lu Xi, the flower of the high mountains, narrowed his eyes disdainfully, that's it?
He turned around and wrote to his pen pal: "The school president of the new school really likes to dress up."
The two of them complained to each other in such a tacit understanding, and all the boring things in life unfolded between the pen and paper, just like they had done in the past three years, they talked about everything.
Until one day, Ji Huaian asked too volubly: "Miss Kasuga, what is the name of the transfer student you mentioned who likes to pretend? He is also in Haicheng, maybe I know him?"
In the reply the next day, "Dear Mr. Qiuye, how can there be such a coincidence in such a big city like Haicheng? His name is Ji Huaian. He pretends to be cold all the time. I hate him so much."
Ji Huaian was stunned.
Oops, the pen pal I've had a crush on for many years, the most annoying pretentious guy is actually himself.
Many, many years ago, Ji Huaian picked up a letter without filling in the receiving address.
At that time, he was dragging his luggage in the heavy rain and went to the house of his aunt with whom he had a casual relationship. Wiping his half-wet and half-dry hair in the dilapidated small room, he opened the damp letter.
On the pale pink letter paper is Juanxiu's handwriting:
This is spring.
Qiuye, are you okay?
Ji Huaian copied the mailing address and replied to the letter carefully:
Here is an autumn night.
Haruhi, I'm fine, how about you?
This began a three-year secret love affair with envelopes.
Concept: Sakura Post Office, Spring Letters.